The Unseen #33: Pocket Money

(Seldom have I so wished the poster was actually an accurate representation of the movie.)

Why’d I Buy It?: Came in The Paul Newman Boxset I bought.

Why Haven’t I Watched It?: A movie staring Paul Newman and Lee Marvin. With a script by the legendary by Sasquatch measure, Terrence Malick? I don’t know. Why haven’t I watched it?

How Was It?: Oh. That’s why I haven’t watched it.

There’s really no pussy footing around this one, Pocket Money is a fairly dreadful film. Now I know what you’re thinking because I was thinking it to. No movie starring Paul Newman and Lee Marvin can be completely devoid of entertainment value. And no movie involving Terrence Malick can be completely devoid of artistic value. And this is true, but they’re both able to get a lot closer to that vanishing point then I would have cared to guess.

Newman plays a dimwitted cowboy, conned into taking charge of a cattle drive down in Mexico, by Strother Martin, the man who Newman once had a failure to communicate with during much happier Rosenberg directed days. He enlists his partner Lee Marvin, to help him with said drive, and the rest of the movie is spent waiting patiently for something, anything to happen.

It might be philistine of me to say it, but Pocket Money is just an aggressively dull movie. The kind of dullness that arrives not merely from a lack of narrative events, or rooting interest, but kind that arises from lack of any sort of investment either onscreen or off.

Part of the problem is Newman had fantastic range, but one thing he never was dumb. His character is such a dim bulb, that he isn’t likable. And as he’s played by Newman he inspires no pity, the way a more convincingly idiotic leading man might have done (Say Victor McLaughlin in The Informer. Who did seem dumb enough to genuinely try to get away with something like that.). Try as he may Newman can’t extinguish the thought behind those blue eyes. Marvin on the other hand simply never commits to the role. I’ve never seen old Lee phone it in, in quite the same way before. Powerful waves of apathy radiate from the screen whenever he appears.

The film meanders around from one non event to the next. Failing to strike sparks with each new non incident. Everytime something fails to happen, the movie cuts to long shots of Newman and Marvin shot at magic hour with great billowing clouds in the background.

With Malick at the helm such imagery might have been poetic, with Rosenberg it is merely perfunctory. Now yes to a certain extent it is unfair to say a journeyman like Rosenberg was not Terrence Malick. A genuine transcendentalist like Malick breathes a very rarified air indeed. Indeed I, and most likely you, are not Terrence Malick either (should this in a series of very unlikely events prove false, it’s an honor sir). But while Malick makes films on the level of Bresson and Ozu, and arguably even surpasses them, Rosenberg, Cool Hand Luke notwithstanding rarely rose to above the level of competent.

This does lead to the interesting question of just how much of Malick’s ineffableness does Malick make effable in his scripts. For all the films tremendous flaws, there’s no doubt that it feels something like a Malick film. A botched malformed Malick film to be sure, but one none the less. For the true zealots of Malick, it must feel a little something like beholding an inverted cross.

Like I said, it’s an interesting question. And you had best enjoy it as it’s the only one the film deigns to raise.

The Unseen #32: The Drowning Pool

Why’d I Buy It?: Came with the Paul Newman Boxset I purchased.

Why Haven’t I Watched It?: Has a reputation of being a lack luster sequel. Also it inspired the name of one of the worst Nu Metal bands, thus by extentsion worst bands ever, which is a tough stigma for any film to overcome.

How Was It?: Pretty much as its reputation has it. The belated (by nine years) sequel to Harper, finds its protagonist older, but not much wiser exploring shenanigans in the deep south. Harper is a pretty great little movie. Its one of the few great color noirs, with a cast to die for, including Janet Leigh in one of her best performances, Shelley Winters in one of the few roles I can stand her in, and a glorious Lauren Bacall playing an utter bitch Godess.

The problem is that its appeal is so tied into its location. Like similar great color noir Point Blank, Harper is a fantastic LA film, capturing the seductive tone of the city, shot by the great Conrad Hall in dusky sinuous palate. So when you remove the setting, which gave the movie its uniqueness, and Janet Leigh who gave the film its heart, and Conrad Hall, who gave the movie its look (he’s replaced by Gordon Willis, which isn’t exactly trading down, but who gets little opportunity to exercise his signature “Prince Of Darkness” aside from a few scenes) what are you left with? Not much.

Now don’t get me wrong, The Drowning Pool is a movie that is devoted entirely to Paul Newman fucking with crackers, there’s no way that doesn’t have some intrinsic entertainment value. Newman himself is charming as hell as always, even if he does seem to be coasting a bit in this one. And in all fairness the movie has a handful of great scenes. Including a bit where Newman interrogates a local gangster at his kennel, where said gangster happens to be training a pack of vicious pitbulls for dog fighting. Rosenberg keeps them and their sometimes bizarre training techniques in the background of nearly ever shot, which livens up the mise en scene considerably and adds a fair amount of tension to an otherwise standard bit of exposition. Then there’s an eerie roadside execution shot at night, with the assassins wearing creepy non descript party store masks, and Gordon Willis getting to cut loose for his one time in the film. But the film on the whole doesn’t hold together.

The cast has some bright spots, including Newman’s wife Joanne Woodward, with whom Newman always had chemistry, and Melanie Griffith in her slutty tomcat days, basically reprising her role in Night Moves to much lesser effect. Stuart Rosenberg, who Newman always had a report directs ably if not well. Drowning Pool isn’t a bad movie per se. I wouldn’t call it a waste of time or discourage anyone else from seeing it. Its just with so much better work from all involved so readily available, its kind of hard to see the point. It’s the very definition of a cinematic B side.